Behind the Scenes
by abootaboo
Summary: During GoF, we see only what Harry sees, but what happened that night after the Yule Ball? All Harry tells us that the next morning Ron and Hermione 'were being quite friendly to each other, though oddly formal.?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All the characters etc. etc. are aaaaalll property of J. K. Rowling. I only wish I owned it. Really wishful thinking. **

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He couldn't sleep. The image of Hermione and…that…_him_, dancing together was still etched clearly into his mind. Her laugh as she tried to get Krum to say her name properly, the way she just said, "_It'__s hot isn__'__t it_" when she came to talk to him and Harry. Hadn't she even noticed the look that Ron had on his face? They'd been friends for so long—was it that hard to tell when he was upset?

It's just not fair, he thought. I'm the one who's known her for ages, I'm the one who's been through so much with her, I should've been the one dancing with her tonight. And she looked so bloody brilliant too.

Why hadn't he asked her beforehand?

_It was bec__ause you only thought of her as a _friend_, dung brains_.

What? Because he only thought of her as a friend before? Was that supposed to mean that he thought of her differently now? What reason should he have for thinking of her any differently?

_Admit it, Ron. You know what I mean._

Ron sighed. Maybe he was really shallow. Ginny had told him that countless times when he'd been Fleur-chasing. He'd denied it of course. That he was shallow. He'd told Ginny that he'd heard Fleur talking to some of her classmates and had thought she sounded like "a great girl. Intelligent. Not to mention funny." In truth, though, he'd done no such thing; he hadn't been able to get within three feet from her without tripping over his own feet.

He rolled over in his bed, making his mattress creak in the process. Harry gave some sort of cross between a grunt and a snore in the four-poster bed next to Ron's, and Ron sighed. He'd be up all night wallowing in his misery if he kept this up. He reached over to his bed-side table, searching for his clock. One of his fingers bumped against a short twiggy thing, and Ron sat up to look at it. In the dim light, he couldn't see the thing clearly, but what it was was apparent. A moment passed, as Ron simply continued to look at the little Bulgarian figurine. Then, he twirled around the broomstick in the doll's hand and broke it off with a flutter of satisfaction. The figurine looked from Ron to his broomstick-less hand, its jaw dropped open in horror, and it looked back at Ron pleadingly. Ron snorted. This was too easy.

He went on to break the doll into pieces, a leg at first, then an arm. With a smirk, he concluded his torture through tearing the head from the torso. He threw all of the disjointed pieces across the floor and picked up his shoe to grind the head under its heel.

With a satisfied smile, he climbed back into bed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ron awoke with a start, panting.

_He was running. Running after her, but she wouldn__'__t stop. __She was holding hands with a man in red Quidditch robes as she ran from him, cackling. __"__No, no, no, no. Hermione, wait__"__ he cried out in __desperation_

That was the only thing he remembered from his nightmare. Running as fast as he possibly could, but not being able to catch up to her. He gave his head a shake, as though that would make him forget the dream. His attempt was futile. He turned to step off of his bed and pulled on the slippers Aunt Muriel had sent to him last Christmas. They were hideous, but they would have to do for now.

Careful not to wake anyone else up, he headed for the doorway, passing a gently humming Neville and a Harry who seemed to be mumbling something along the lines of "Chudley Cannons." Chudley Cannons? What? Well, that couldn't be it, but Ron ignored it anyway and kept walking. The kitchens would be his destinations. Nothing calmed nerves more than a cup of hot chocolate and bossing those elves around.

_How Hermione would react if she heard __you__ say that._

Ron chuckled despite himself, but stopped as he remembered the terms in which he and Hermione had left off on. He clenched his fist, picturing Krum struggling between his fingers. He tightened them, and his fingers cracked. There went Krum.

He climbed down the steps to the common room and was surprised to see someone else also up so late. The brunette was in the couch by the fireplace, and Ron almost made himself turn right back into his room as he, with a pang, realized who she was.

_So, you__'__re going to run away every time you see her? If you haven__'__t noticed, that__'__s going to be a bit difficult to do. You __do have all of your classes with her, you know._

Not Divination.

_Well, nearly all your classes. You__'__ll have to face her sooner or later. Come on; just walk past her as though she__'__s nothing._

Ron began to continue on forward, but found himself unable to tear his eyes off of her. Although her hair had regained its bushy status, the image of her in her Yule Ball dress was burned clearly into his mind. He realized this and groaned, wondering if he would ever be able to think of her in the same way again. He had almost made it to the door when Hermione, noticing the footsteps, turned to look at who it was and met his gaze.

"Oh, Ron. Hi."

He whipped his head back toward the Gryffindor common room exit and ignored her. She was the one who'd committed the wrong. Not him. "_Next time there__'__s a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!__" _Her accusing voice from earlier rang in his ears. Ignore it, Just ignore her, he thought to himself

"Ron, please. Wait. I have to talk to you."

His resolve completely crumbled at the sound of her voice, which sounded almost pleading. Struggling to make his face expressionless, he walked to the couch where she sat.

"What do you want?" It was more of a statement than a question, really, and he made that simple phrase scream, _Leave me alone, you__'__re a waste of my time._

Hermione flinched. This wasn't going to be easy. "I…I just um…wanted to apologize for how I lost my temper today. I don't know why I got so angry. I guess…."

Ron relaxed. Finally, she seemed to be coming to her senses.

"…it's just that Viktor had been so sweet to me all night, and I couldn't bear to have you talking about him like that."

Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say.

"WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I EVEN CARED ABOUT WHAT YOU SAID TO ME? I DON'T BLOODY CARE ABOUT WHETHER OR NOT…I DON'T CARE ABOUT HOW _VICKY_ WAS _SWEET_ TO YOU. I JUST CARE ABOUT HARRY WINNING THE TOUR…"

He was stopped in midsentence; however, through finding Hermione's hands clamped tightly over his mouth. His hands quickly pulled her arms away, fuming.

"You're going to wake up the whole castle," she hissed. Wow. That was so like her. When a guy was screaming his lungs out at her, all she cared about how he was going "to wake up the whole castle." Ron rolled his eyes. So what did he care about the castle. He just wanted to make his point clear.

"I THOUGHT HARRY WAS YOUR FRIEND TOO, WHAT ARE YOU DOING GOING AROUND KISSING THE ENEMY FOR?"

Hermione froze. "I am not 'going around kissing the enemy.'" Her voice trembled, just as it had done during the ball. "I don't understand why you're making such a big deal out of this, Ron. It's just a ball. If you're really so upset about all this, I…I already asked you this once, but…wh…why didn't _you_ just ask me? Then none of this would have happened."

"Really…that's just beside the point, that has nothing to do with anything, I mean, well really. I'm just…mad that you went with…Krum! That hasn't got anything…" Ron spluttered and saw Hermione gazing towards the ground. "What?"

"Still, none of this would have happened if you'd asked me."

"I..well…didn't have much reason for wanting to go with you, obviously. Thought you'd be more sensible, and wouldn't choose such an _arse_ to go to the ball with."

He felt a flash of satisfaction as he finished saying this, but cringed as he saw the look on Hermione's face. He began to stutter out an apology.

"No, Hermione, I didn't…didn't…that's not really what I meant, this, I…." He couldn't quite find anything more to say.

She shook her head in response. "It's all right, Ron." How could she have ever been so stupid, as to think, to even _dream_ that Ron might have thought about her in the same way as she did him? Ever since that troll, even just _looking_ at that flaming red hair had been able to lift up her spirits, except during their fights. They did spend a lot of time together—how was she to know that that hadn't meant anything?

The tension between them was building, and neither said anything for a moment. Finally, Ron spoke up.

"Sorry."

Her gaze flickered up to his for a moment, surprised at how genuine it sounded, but she quickly looked back to the floor. "I really did want you to ask me, you know," she choked out.

"Ask you what?"

"The ball. When Neville asked me, Viktor actually hadn't asked me yet. I turned him down, not because I personally had anything against Neville, of course. Then Viktor asked, and I just gave up. It was only a few days till the ball anyway, and I just thought about how awkward it would've been between Neville and I if I ended up going alone. I just kept hoping that you would ask me." Hermione looked dumbfounded as she said the last few words.

Ron was stunned into silence. She'd been hoping that? Unbelievable. He'd personally always thought that Hermione preferred Harry over him. "The Chosen One", "the Boy Who Lived."—who wouldn't prefer Harry? Apparently he'd been mistaken. Her bushy hair shadowed her face, and all he could see from where he sat was her nose. The image of her during the Yule ball hit him once more, and he blushed slightly.

_Maybe, if she likes me, I can.._

He shifted an inch closer to her, turning himself to face her. "Hermione, can I…" _be your date to Hogsmeade the next time we have a trip_ he wanted to conclude, but his lips were frozen and wouldn't move. What if she turned him down? Preferring him over Harry didn't mean much; maybe she just thought of Harry as being too brotherly figure to like him that way. If she said no, _wow_, things would be amazingly awkward between them. He wouldn't be able to look her in the face ever again without blushing like heck.

_What__'__s he going to say?_

Hermione looked up at him, and noticed he was a bit pale. Maybe her outburst had been too much of a shock for him. She was just know-it-all Granger, the one who worried too much. To him, she was probably just a source of an easy pass in most of the subjects. "_Hermione, can I see your potions essay?__"__"__Hermione, I need you to check this for me, will you?_" To tell the truth, though, she'd actually liked it when Ron asked for homework help. At least that had made her feel wanted, instead of a simple tag-along. But maybe, maybe he would say something a bit sweet, like ask for forgiveness. Maybe he would get down on his knees and bow down to her, making her laugh. Probably not, but couldn't hurt to hope, could it?

"Mione, um.."

_What am I going to say? __"__Never mind__"__ won__'__t work. __I__t__'__s _Hermione_, for Merlin's sake. What do I do? I can't possibly ask her to Hogsmeade now, just look at the _look_ on her face. She looks repulsed._

"Yes, Ron?"

"Uhh, do you have a copy of the Herbology homework?" he blurted out.

Hermione looked back at him blankly, but mentally slapped herself on the head in slight disgust. Of course. What else was there for him to say? But really, couldn't he just...augh.

"Sure, just let me get it." There was a distinct edge to her voice as she said this.

He watched as she ran up the stairs to the girls dormitory, her cloak tailing after her. He'd really don't it this time. The reaction that he'd gotten from her was enough to tell him that. The _look_ on her face. Resting his chin on his palm, with his elbow on his knee, he looked at the dark fireplace. The fire had died out ages ago. When would Hermione come back? It was getting cold, and he wanted to be back in bed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

please review! this is my first fanfic, and it didn't turn out as good as I'd hoped, but plz tell me what you think of it. even if you hate it, plz tell me! thanks :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, there would at least be ten books. ****O****r twenty. Or maybe**** just**** none at all, because I never would have been able to come up with such a brilliant plot. We love you, Jo Rowling!**

**P****lz review :) yea its kinda short tho.**

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He didn't remember falling asleep.

"Ron, wake up. Ron?" A blonde girl was leaning over him, shaking him awake.

"Huh?" Groggily, he rubbed his eyes and looked up at the figure above him. "Oh, Lavender. What time is it?"

"It's only six, and I'm just up because I have to go take a shower." She flashed a row of dazzlingly white teeth at him, and he couldn't help but have to blink. "Bye, Ron." She flounced out the common room door, and he brought a hand up to his hair, running his fingers through the bird nest. Suddenly, it hit him.

_The Herbology homework._

Panicking, he scrambled around the couch, in desperate hopes that she'd left it lying somewhere by his side. There wasn't anything. _Anywhere_. Except for a quill that someone had probably left lying around from the night before. The homework was nowhere to be seen. She'd never brought it down.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**E****arlier**

"Where is it, where is it, where is it," she mumbled to herself, shifting through her school bags.

_Ow_.

She had scraped her hand along the rugged edges of her copy of _Hogwarts, A History_. Digging in still deeper with her other hand as she sucked on the slight cut, she finally came across the piece of parchment from earlier which she'd written her Herbology notes on. At the bottom of the sheet was the homework for the day, scrawled down in her tiny handwriting. "_A three foot essay on the properties of mandrakes. Do not use textbooks. Write only what you remember from second year._"

She nodded, and grabbed a piece of parchment from her bedside table, along with a quill. Folding the parchment, she cut it so that the longer half was seven feet, and the shorter half three. Hermione placed the larger piece back on the table, and folded the shorter half into fourths, giving her wand a quick wave to copy the instructions for the homework from her Herbology notes onto the parchment.

Careful not to wake Lavender or Parvati up, she tiptoed back across the room. Her imagination supplied exactly what she would hear them say tomorrow if they caught her sneaking out of the room in the dead of night to meet Ron.

"_Did you know, that Hermione Granger, she__'__s been two-timing Viktor Krum__Yes, Viktor Krum! And can you believe it? It__'__s with Ron Weasley! Really, I__'__d always thought she preferred Harry. Harry__'__s more__…__fascinating__, you know?__"_

Thankfully, she made it out of the room without anyone waking up and with her dignity. Running down to the common room, she looked toward the fire and saw Ron. Sleeping. And snoring.

She stifled a snort, and paced over to him and the couch. Leaning over him, she looked into his freckled face, imagining what he could possibly be dreaming about now. With a smile, she placed the parchment and the quill at the foot of the couch and then proceeded to lower herself onto the floor, leaning against the couch. She mumbled, "Incendio," under her breath, and the fireplace regained its embers. Ron's breath was warm against the back of her neck. She closed her eyes, reveling in how perfect this scene was, and—

"Fleur," Ron mumbled, thrashing his arms around.

Her eyes widened, and Hermione sprang back up, turning her back to Ron as she marched over to the stairs leading to the girls dormitory. She shot Ron one last lingering look, and found Ron kicking his legs about wildly. His foot came into contact with the quill and parchment, and pushed the parchment off of the couch. With a flutter, it landed on the ground, and as though by some unseen force, flounced into the burning fireplace. It crackled and disappeared.

Her feet refused to move for a moment, and all she could do was gape. Her gaze flickered from the fireplace, to Ron's feet, and then to his face. He was smiling jubilantly and was now actually making puckering noises. Disgusted, she ran up the stairs to the dormitory and wiped the tears from her eyes, burrowing herself into her sheets.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer; yeah. You know the drill.**

**Only a bit of**** RHr here, more like a simple drabble about what went on in the fourth book with the egg and all. **

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hermione stretched her arms as she climbed out of bed and looked out of the window. _Boxing Day_, she thought to herself mildly. Crookshanks looked up at me from the foot of her bed and gave a soft purr.

"Here, Crookshanks," she gestured towards her cat and he hopped up onto her lap, purring happily. "Let's go downstairs."

The Gryffindor common room was strangely quiet, and everyone in it was either yawning or mumbling with their friends about how "bloody wonderful" the previous day had been. With a small giggle, she noticed Neville smiling nervously as he watched Ginny talking to some of her Third Year friends about the ball.

"Hey, Hermione," A hand, which she recognized as Harry's, clasped her shoulder from behind. She turned around to greet him and saw Ron standing by his side, his face painfully blank.

_Fleur, right? She's all you'll ever want._

Ron refused to make eye contact with her and quickly walked away, joining Dean and Seamus in their recounts of the ball.

Harry watched their reactions to each other in slight amusement. "Well, anyway, hey," he laughed, "what _did_ you do to your hair last night?" He tugged a strand of it playfully. "It's all curly again."

Hermione smiled, and blushed slightly. She'd been hoping that no one would ask her this, but it was not to be. "Sleekeazy's Hair Potion. But I ended up using like three bottles in the end, and it doesn't exactly come too cheap. The results are prettu good, I guess, but it's way too much bother to do it every day." She shrugged offhandedly as she pet Crookshanks who was trying to squirm out from between her arms, apparently determined to reach at a quill lying on the floor.

Harry smiled back.

_At least this guy has some common sense planted in him. Unlike certain others I could mention._

Then why didn't she like _him_, instead of that red-headed prat? It wasn't as though Ron was especially good looking or anything. Actually, she'd always thought he was a bit on the ugly side.

_Oh, don't even kid yourself. Don't even try. You think he's so dashingly handsome with his curly red hair and—_

Somehow, Hermione managed to cut off her own thoughts. She would never admit it. _Never_. She'd been utterly smitten by him ever since first year, and watching him get all riled up all the time about one thing or another was so _cute_. His face would become a flaming shade of red, just like his hair, and she'd loved that, but there would be no stopping him then. He'd shout and shout and shout, and it would nearly always end with her running up the stairs in tears. _That _she hadn't quite liked.

"Hermione, let's just go down to breakfast, will we?" Hermione responded in affirmative, and Harry's gaze quickly swept the room in search of a mop of red hair. "Oi, Ron! Breakfast! Let's go, mate!"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Oh, Harry, 'ell 'er out 'agrid," Ron muttered to Harry out of the corner of his moth, sending sausage flying out of his mouth and onto his plate.

"Why don't you tell her?" Harry glanced at Ron, only to find him blushing wildly and simply shaking his head.

"Tell me what?" She looked up at them with a questioning look. "Tell me what, Harry?"

Putting his fork down on his plate, he began his story on what they'd heard the previous night. He'd expected Hermione's face to change to one of shock, but quite on the contrary, she simply seemed slightly amused and shrugged.

"Well, I thought she must be. I knew he couldn't be pure giant because they're about twenty feet tall. But honestly, all this hysteria about giants, they can't _all_ be horrible….It's the same sort of prejudice that people have toward werewolves…It's just bigotry, isn't it?" Hermione looked from Ron to Harry, and thankfully for Harry and his eardrums, didn't catch the way Ron shook his head.

Ron had desperately wanted to lash out at her, to tell her about how amazingly stupid she was when it came to this, but had restrained himself. Acting indifferent to what she had done to him yesterday would probably be more effective.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The few weeks after that leading up to the second task passed by rather normally, or at least as normally as possible, judging by their standards. The only slightly-out-of-the-ordinary thing that happened was seeing Krum dive into the lake, in nothing except swimming trunks. In the middle of the winter. In sub-zero weather.

"It's a lot colder where he comes from. I suppose it feels quite warm to him." Hermione said, rather matter-of-factly.

Ron looked at the ground. "Yeah, but there's still the giant squid."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hermione, Ron, listen," mumbled Harry. One of the cushions that the class was supposed to be practicing the Banishing charm, the opposite of a summoning charm, on went flying past them, requiring Ron to duck and bang his head on the table.

"Yeah?" He rubbed his head painfully and looked up at Harry. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione roll her eyes and snigger. Ron shot her a death glare, which Hermione returned with a smirk.

"Last night, I was coming back from the prefect's bathroom—"

"Harry, why were you in the _prefect's bathroom_?"

"Cedric told me it would help with the egg, and—"

"You said you'd already worked out that egg clue!" exclaimed Hermione, whipping her gaze away from Ron to Harry and looking utterly mortified.

Harry looked slightly miffed. "Keep your voice down! I just need to—" he paused for a moment, as though deliberating on what to say "—sort of fine-tune it, all right?"

Ron gazed blankly off into the distance as Professor Flitwick whizzed by, tailed by a Neville Longbottom, who was nearly in hysteria and was apologizing over and over again for "not pointing my wand in the right direction".

"Just forget the egg for a minute, all right? I'm trying to tell you about Snape and Moody." He went on to recount the events of the previous night, telling them about how Snape had said that his potions cupboard had been broken into.

"Snape said Moody's searched his office as well?" Ron whispered with a wave of his wand as his cushion flew in entirely the wrong direction and whacked Parvati Patil across the cheek, earning him a glare. He shuddered, but chose to pretend that he hadn't noticed. "What…d'you reckon Moody's here to keep an eye on Snape as well as Karkaroff?"

Harry's cushion gave a flop as Harry answered, "Well, I dunno if that's what Dumbledore asked him to do, but he's definitely doing it. Moody said Dumbledore only lets Snape stay here because he's giving him a second chance or something…"

Ron's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. His wand moved involuntarily and his cushion flung itself at the chandelier on the ceiling and then to Flitwick's desk. "What? Harry…maybe Moody thinks _Snape_ put your name into the Goblet of Fire!" He looked simply delighted with himself, and was looking merrily back at his two friends, until Hermione answered skeptically.

"Oh, Ron, we thought Snape was trying to kill Harry before, and it turned out he was saving Harry's life, remember?" She shook her head in disbelief. Her cushion, quite on the contrary to Harry's and Ron's, flew daintily into the box which they were aiming for, earning her a momentary pat on the back from Professor Flitwick as he went zooming across the room again, although this time in the opposite direction ("No! Professor, wait, oh no…" cried out Neville.)

Despite Hermione's outburst, Harry seemed to ponder on the possibility of Snape's "evil-itivity" for a moment. Ron shot Hermione a smug look, to which she retorted through yet another eye-roll.

She began to list out the statistics once more. "I don't care what Moody says. Dumbledore's not stupid. He was right to trust Hagrid and Professor Lupin, even though loads of people wouldn't have given them jobs, so why whouldn't he be right about Snape, even if Snape is a bit – "

"—evil," concluded Ron. Well, Hermione did have a point, but who would he be to admit defeat? He cocked an eyebrow at her, but she ignored it, turning to face the other direction.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

There was nothing. Absolutely _nothing. _They'd looked everywhere, in books from the Restricted Section, and in the books that Lavender and Parvati had happened to have lying around in their trunks (courtesy of Hermione). Those had been slightly entertaining, to be sure, but not much of a help, causing Hermione and Ron to blush wildly under the gaze of a bemused Harry.

"Hermione, I was joking, I know I haven't got a chance of turning into a frog by tomorrow morning," Harry mumbled without raising his gaze from the book he was studying, when Hermione had scolded him for suggesting that he should simply become an Animagi. He looked nearly ready to drop dead out of fatigue.

Hermione ignored him anyway. "Oh, this is no use," Ron looked over her shoulder and stifled a laugh as she read aloud what the book had been giving her instructions on. Growing nose-hair into ringlets? No sane human being would ever even consider it.

_Well, she might pay a bit more __attention__ to you if you did._

On the other hand, perhaps it was a good idea.

"I wouldn't mind," he tried to say, but his brother's voice got there more quickly. "Be a talking point, wouldn't it?"

The twins had appeared from behind a shelf of books.

"What're you doing here?" asked Ron.

"Looking for you. McGonagall wants you, Ron. And you, Hermione."

_Oh my god, no no no no, has she noticed how I__'__ve been uh__…__goggling at Ron for most of the lessons recently? _

She'd forgiven him for the Herbology-homework incident ages ago. After all, he'd been dead asleep at the time. Instead of trying to plot revenge, she'd resorted to watching him throughout most of their lessons as he stuck the tip of his tongue out from his mouth every few minutes or so, running a hand through his hair. _I__'__ll really have to try doing that sometime,_ she daydreamed often. _But while he__'__s asleep, of course._

"Why?" Hermione asked, slightly apprehensive but feigning surprise.

"Dunno…she was looking a bit grim, though," answered Fred.

"We're supposed to take you two down to her office," said George.

Both Hermione's and Ron's gaze whipped toward Harry as he looked back at him, looking horrified.

"We'll meet you back in the common room," Hermione told him as she stood up, slightly unwillingly. "Bring as many of these books as you can, okay?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Fred and George lead them down along a corridor, right past the Gryffindor common room. Out of it popped a head.

"Fred! George! Where were you? The Skiving Snackboxes require your attention. I tried some stuff with it using that new potion Snape taught us, yesterday, but—oh. Hey, Hermione. Ron. I…err…that was umm…classified information, I would prefer it if you didn't mention the Snackboxes to anyone else yet. Ron? Hermione?" They nodded. Fred and George seemed to be battling an internal conflict between rushing over to Lee to help with the Snackboxes and leading Ron and Hermione where they were supposed to go, but they quickly made their decision.

"So, uhh…Hermione, Ron, here we will uhh…leave you. Just go to McGonagall's office. So—"

"Toodoloo," George flashed a smile at the two and with a flourish, stepped back into the portrait hole along with Fred.

Hermione froze. This was the first time that they'd been left alone together the night after the Yule Ball.

"Let's go." Ron said, his tone nonchalant, keeping his eyes to the floor.

"O…okay."

They walked along in silence for a few moments, until Ron finally spoke up, his tone scathing.

"So, you never really did bring that homework down, did you? Just wanted to humiliate me, right?" he spat.

"Ron, what?" she finally realized how it must have seemed to him, with no parchment and only a quill lying around. "I did bring it down, it's just that you…were asleep."

"And you just didn't feel like waking me up? Sure. I believe you." His sarcasm was deafning.

_But that__'__s exactly what happened._

Sure, she was going to tell him that he'd looked so sweet sleeping there that she hadn't had the heart to wake him up. Sure, she was going to just tell him that she'd simply sat there for a few minutes, enjoying having him breathing on the back of her neck.

Yeah, right.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW:P**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** **All bow down to J. K. Rowling for she is the one who makes the earth go round. Now if she****'****d only write more books. Yeah, I****'****m kind of obsessed about that.**

**H****mmm ****I ****don't**** like this chapter. Oh well. ****W****ish me luck. If it sucks, tell me and I****'****ll try to fi****x**** stuff that especially suck****sigh ****T****hanks.**

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She refused to say anything in return, keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the marble floor. They continued to walk on in stony silence, neither willing to be the one to speak up first. They reached McGonagall's room before either of them broke the silence.

Ron opened the door and gestured that Hermione go first. She curtly nodded and stepped in, mortified at what was about to befall her. Was McGonagall going to admonish her in front of _Ron_? She paled slightly at the thought. That would only horrify him even _more_, perhaps to the extent of running from her screaming. She looked up at the scene around her.

_What?_

Cho Chang and a little platinum-blonde girl—she couldn't have been more than ten or so—were already in the room, accompanied by a rather severe looking McGonagall, Dumbledore, Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Bagman, and Percy.

Ron followed her into the room and furrowed his brows at the sight as well.

_Why__'__re we here?_

"Yes, that's everyone, isn't it." Bagman piped up cheerfully. "Dumbledore, I'll leave you to explain the statistics."

Dumbledore stepped up from the gaggle of people, his white beard looking more pronounced by the second. "I suppose most of you know why you are here." Cho gave a jerky nod, as though she knew, but wasn't _quite_ sure. "Ahh, Miss Chang only?" They nodded. "Well, you all know that the second task of the Triwizard tournament is coming up tomorrow, and we are assuming that the champions have told you what is to come up tomorrow.

'_Come seek us where our voices sound; __we cannot speak above the ground;__ and while you__'__re searching, ponder this; __we__'__ve taken what you__'__ll sorely miss; __an hour long you__'__ll have to look:__ and to recover what we took;__'"_

Hermione joined Dumbledore in reciting the last two lines of the directions as she had heard from Harry. "'_But past an hour __–__ the prospect__'__s black; too late, it__'__s gone, it won__'__t come back._'"

"Very good, Miss Granger," Dumbledore smiled at her.

"Honestly, how do you remember that kind of stuff?" Ron exclaimed, forgetting their fight—well, more like one sided attack—from earlier, and looked back down at the floor again, blushing. He could only hope that she wasn't too angry about it; at the time, it had seemed the only option available. The silence between them had only increased the tension, and he'd thought that if he confronted her about it, she'd apologize and everything would be fine. To put it plainly, it had been his idea of "small talk." Judging from her reaction to it, he'd been sorely mistaken.

To his surprise, she answered him. "Thanks," she murmured as Dumbledore began to explain again.

"As the directions from the egg say, the champions have had something very important to them taken from each of them, namely their closest friends. Miss Chang—I believe I am right in saying you went to the ball with Mr. Diggory; Miss Granger, you with Mr. Krum. Mr. Weasley, you are Mr. Potter's best friend, and Miss Delacour, you and your sister are very close, no?"

The silver headed girl was nodding, but Ron was barely paying attention. "_Miss Granger, you with Mr. Krum,_"

_So she__'__s supposed to be the most important thing to Viktor Krum? They haven__'__t even properly spoken to each other__—__he can__'__t even say her name!_

"Doesn't he have any other friends?" Ron blurted out and looked up and into the vague direction of Dumbledore.

"Pardon me?" it was not Dumbledore who answered, but Karkaroff. "Doesn't _who_ have any other friends?"

"Krum."

The office was silenced instantaneously, until Bagman spoke up. "Well, son, of course he has other friends, but Miss Granger here is the most suitable, right? Now, let's move on—"

"Then why does it have to be Hermione?"

"Why not Miss Granger?" Bagman looked slightly annoyed now.

"She hasn't even known him for a year, how do you know he actually cares about her? What if he just lets her drown? What if—"

"Ron," Hermione muttered, her cheeks a violent shade of pink, as she brought up a hand to Ron's arm. "It's all right."

Dumbledore spoke up at last. "Alas, we come to this point at last. The possibility of 'death' as implied in the directions. Please let me clarify this right now, _there is no possibility of this._"

"It's only to make sure that the champions do their best to get back inside the time limit," chimed in Bagman all too cheerfully.

"But Professor, Viktor Krum can't possibly—"

"_Ronald_."

He shut up.

"Now, I will be putting a bewitched sleep on the four of you, and you will wake up the moment your head rises out of the water. Mr. Weasley you first. Will you please step up to this couch?" Ron gave a curt nod in affirmative and stepped forward. He placed himself down onto the couch and didn't remember anything after that.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He spat out a fountain of lake water.

_Merlin, that stuff__'__s disgusting._

"Wet, this, isn't it?" he looked up at the cheering crowd above him and then looked to his left, hearing splashing. Fleur's white-haired little sister paddled there, looking slightly dazed. "What did you bring her for?"

"Fleur didn't turn up, I couldn't leave her," _I thought she was going to die,_ Harry seemed to want to conclude.

Ron laughed lightly, sending another, although slightly smaller, fountain of water spewing out of his mouth. "Harry, you prat, you didn't take that song thing seriously, did you? Dumbledore wouldn't have let any of us drown!" _No need to mention that I'd been worried as well, _he thought mildly.

Harry looked slightly disgusted with himself for a moment, but retorted quickly. "The song said –"

"It was only to make sure you got back inside the time limit!" he said, almost parroting Bagman's words. "I hope you didn't waste time down there acting the hero!"

He ignored Ron and chose to simply change the topic. "C'mon, help me with her, I don't think she can swim very well." Indeed, Fleur's sister was momentarily submerged in the water, her head bobbing up and down in the waves every few seconds.

He grabbed an arm and doggy-paddled towards the shore. By the time he had reached it, he was panting, hoping never to have to swim again. Never. His eyes scanned the crowd for a glimpse of a bushy haired brunette, and was about to ask Harry about her whereabouts when—

"Gabrielle! _Gabrielle! Is she alive? Is she __'__urt?_" A taller version of the seemingly petrified girl whose arm he was holding nearly flung herself at them, stopped only by Madame Maxime.

Harry tried to choke out something, but nothing came out of his mouth. Ron grinnned at his friend, and received a faint smile in return. The next thing he knew, Percy had grabbed his collar and was dragging him out of the water, mumbling something along the lines of "Mum'll have my neck for this, you know."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ron joined Harry and Hermione, hustled in by Madam Pomfrey, who, to everyone's surprise, had managed to help Ron escape Percy's clutches. He gave a small smile to Hermione as he sat down, hoping that she would disregard their conversation from earlier in the corridors. She smiled back and roller her eyes, amused.

Ron still had steam coming out of their ears from the Pepperup Potion that Madam Pomfrey had given them when Fleur appeared out of nowhere, looking at Harry with glowing eyes. "You saved 'er, even though she was now your 'ostage"

"Yeah," Harry mumbled, his mind clearly someplace else and with a pained expression on his face. Fleur looked positively delighted and swooped down, kissing Harry twice on each cheek.

Then, she moved onto Ron, exclaiming, "And you too – you 'elped --"

Ron goggled up at her blankly for a moment, until he finally answered, "Yeah, yeah, a bit –" with an awkward grin on his face. Fleur leaned down to kiss him too, and Hermione heard a hiss escaping her lips involuntarily. Ron then gave Hermione an apologetic sort of grin, which she chose to ignore, pretending to be completely immersed in what Cedric and Cho were doing.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You might find something to interest you in there, Granger!" Pansy Parkinon cackled, tossing her a copy of the latest issue of _Witch Weekly_. Hermione just managed to catch it, and just as she began to open it, Snape strode out of the dungeon door, his eyes scanning the gaggle of students. His gaze lingered for a moment on Harry as an unpleasant smirk formed across his face, but he quickly averted his gaze and motioned for everyone to get inside.

Ron lead the way to their usual table at the very back of the classroom, where Hermione began to flip through the pages of the magazine, looking for what Pansy had been referring to. When she reached a page in the back half of the magazine, she stopped, and began to read through it, her eyes whipping through one row to another.

She gestured for Harry and Ron to look to read it, and they obliged, leaning into her only slightly in order to avoid the notice of "the greasy-haired git" at the front of the classroom.

**"****Harry Potter****'****s Secret Heartache****"**

"A boy like no other, perhaps – yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, _writes Rita Skeeter_. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss.

"Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten by the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has 'never felt this way about any other girl.'

"However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest.

"'She's really ugly,' says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it.'

"Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate."

"I told you! I _told_ you not to annoy Rita Skeeter! She's made you out to be some sort of – of scarlet woman!" He looked utterly horrified as he finished reading the article. He ran a hand through his hair and resisted the urge to bang his head on the table.

_Hermione and Harry, Hermione and Krum, but never, never ever Hermione and Ron. No one's even_ come up _with the idea yet._

Hermione made a futile attempt to stifle a giggle as she looked at Ron with amused eyes. "_Scarlet woman_?"

"It's what my mum calls them." His face was beginning to match the shade of his hair as he, from the tips of his ears, began to turn to a flaming red.

She shook her head in disbelief, as she said, "If that's the best Rita can do, she's losing her touch. What a pile of old rubbish." She began to giggle once more. She sent a smile and a wave towards the Slytherins at the front of the classroom, who had all been watching her as they waited for a reaction. She turned back towards the potion they had been working on today, the Wit-Sharpenig Potion. "There's something funny though. How could Rita Skeeter have known…?"

"Known what?" Ron's face paled slightly.

_Maybe, just maybe, this will explain why I__'__m falling for her this badly, and then I won__'__t have to __–_

"You _haven__'__t _been mixing up Love Potions, have you?" Ron asked as Harry shot him an incredulous look, which clearly said, _nice try_.

"Don't be stupid. No, it's just…how did she know Viktor asked me to visit him over the summer?" She refused to meet Ron's or Harry's gaze as her cheeks flushed madly.

Ron's jaw dropped open. "What?"

Hermione blushed even further, her cheeks somehow beginning to maintain a violent shade of red instead. "He asked me right after he'd pulled me out of the lake, after he'd got rid of his shark's head. Madam Pomfrey gave us both blankets and then he sort of pulled me away from the judges so they wouldn't hear, and he said, if I wasn't doing anything over the summer, would I like to – "

"And what did you say?" he asked, attempting to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

_What about the Burrow? The Burrow, Hermione, THE BURROW._

She ignored him."And he _did_ say he'd never felt the same way about anyone else," All the color drained from Ron's face as he looked like he was about to choke. "but how could Rita Skeeter have heard him? She wasn't there…or was she? Maybe she _has_ got an Invisibility Cloak; maybe she sneaked onto the grounds to watch the second task…"

"_And what did you say?_" Ron repeated with a hiss.

"Well, I was too busy seeing whether you and Harry were okay to –"

Snape sneered at them as he spat, "Fascinating though your social life undoubtedly is, Miss Granger, I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**4th chapter finallyyy**

**but most of this is just what Jo Rowling did in the fourth book. Most of the dialogue is from GoF, and I just added in stuff and placed stuff differently. yea. pretty much only the before the second task scene is mine (okay that's not even mine, it's Jo's anyway with the characters and all but yeah you know what i mean.)**

**hmmmm.**

**well nyway, plz review nd tell me wat u think ;) thnx**


End file.
